


Keep Guns Away From The Head (Or Be Ready To Handle The Consequences)

by The_Problematic_Blender



Series: "This is going to Hell in a hand basket real fast!" [15]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Character Death, Fake AH Crew, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Problematic_Blender/pseuds/The_Problematic_Blender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living a double life never went well for anyone.</p><p>Jeremy is no different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Guns Away From The Head (Or Be Ready To Handle The Consequences)

You have probably heard of the phrase double life, maybe when someone is dating two people or maybe a superhero. People that can balance double lives are ones that honestly shouldn't be messed with, they will add another life with the sole intent of killing you. Probably.

Thankfully, Jeremy wasn't good at juggling two lives.

Jeremy's first life was with the crew, working as their escape artist, their sniper, and their brute. He could get in anywhere, no problem, take out all the guards in the place before anyone knew what was happening. It was an asset the crew didn't have before, and it was incredibly helpful. In short, his first life was a criminal life.

Jeremy's second life was Trevor. Jeremy met Trevor at a convenience store at three am, Trevor buying an absurd amount of first aid materials while Jeremy was on a soda run. Trevor explained he had a medical condition where he couldn't feel pain after Jeremy asked why the fuck did someone need the whole band aid shelf in a convenience store. They talked for a nearly an hour before Trevor gave him his number, telling Jeremy to call him when he didn't have a washcloth being used as a bandage on his leg. Jeremy did a few days later, and soon enough they were talking every night for months.

Jeremy lied to Trevor, saying that he worked as a personal trainer instead of, y'know, a murderer, and because of it he had to omit most of his life. He felt bad for doing so, but being friends with Trevor was probably the greatest thing he did. All “friends” Jeremy had before had the ability to shank him in his sleep and would have no problems doing so. Even with the crew, it was kind of iffy. But Jeremy promised himself that he would tell Trevor before things escalated.

And then things escalated.

Jeremy didn't mean for things to get that far, but late night confessions with drunken slurs destroyed any efforts Jeremy had. It sure wasn't fun having to do a walk of shame back to the penthouse with early risers Jack and Michael, plus a half asleep and hungover Geoff. Jack was fairly polite about it, while Michael and Geoff teased him mercilessly. Jack scolded the two and handed Jeremy a coffee and Advil, telling them to be nice. Jeremy mumbled a thanks and headed back to his room, sitting in the dark with the crushing realization of the situation he was in. Jeremy couldn't say that he was a criminal now, not after what happened. How would he even go about telling Trevor about that? Jeremy felt awful, realizing how big of a hole he dug himself into. Jeremy would just have to tell Trevor and hope for the best. Jeremy decided to do it that night, after he had a job with Michael including a stubborn weapon dealer. At least then he could disappear without question, not many people stuck around at the penthouse after a job, them needing to calm down and decompress.

When night rolled around, Michael and Jeremy waiting in a back alley in a slummish part of the city, he was fidgeting nervously. “You okay there, Lil J?” Michael asked, assuming his jitters were about the job.

“Just nervous.” Jeremy said.

“Don't be, this fuck can't even shoot a gun, if he gives us trouble, we kill him and we take his shit.” Michael says.

“Yeah, right.” Jeremy says, trying to calm himself. It was another ten minutes before the weapon dealer came by, and it was the basic shakedown. Intimidating words regarding their punctuality, informing that the boss isn't pleased with their actions/price/methods, telling them to take it down a peg or they'll take them down a peg, get results. Results ended up being him running, and Michael shot him in the leg to stop him on his tracks. Before Michael could reply with the disappointed card, there was an audible gasp, and they both turned in time to see someone running.

“I got the dealer, you handle them.” Michael said, and Jeremy nodded, running off after whoever saw them. In this part of the city, there weren't any lamp posts, otherwise Jeremy could've avoided what was about to happen.

Jeremy ran quicker than whoever was running away from him, so when he turned the corner, he tackled the person to the ground. He pressed his gun to their head, saying “Give me one good reason not to shoot your head off.”

“Jeremy?” Came the reply, and Jeremy turned cold at the voice. Trevor's voice. Jeremy immediately pulled the gun away from him, scrambling off of him. Trevor got up once Jeremy was off him, looking at Jeremy with a look of fear that Jeremy could see clearly, even in the dark. Jeremy thought he was going to throw up.

“Trevor,” Jeremy started, moving closer to Trevor, causing the older man to shrink back. Jeremy felt his heart break. “Trevor, you need to get out of here.”

“Jeremy, what's going on?” Trevor asked.

“Please, get out of here.” Jeremy pleaded.

“Why?”

“Because I'm supposed to kill you!” Jeremy yelled, forcing tears back. “Now get out of here! Now!” Thankfully, Trevor did, looking back before hurrying away. Jeremy pointed the gun to the ground and fired into the concrete, the bullet ricocheting away from him, thankfully. Jeremy couldn't believe his luck. The day after him and Trevor confessed their feelings for each other, Trevor found out Jeremy's actual job in the worse possible way. Jeremy wiped away the tears he let fall now he was alone, wishing that it didn't have to come to this.

-

Trevor woke up with a jolt, probably from another nightmare. He tried to calm down as he went over what happened last night. He was walking home from the medical center to get some stitches after a kitchen knife incident, and he walked passed an alley just in time to see someone pull a gun and shoot someone else. He, of course, made noise, and the person with the gun and his friend heard him, so he got the fuck out of there and started running. He didn't get far before he was tackled to the ground, by Jeremy, the one person in this town that was his god damned friend and maybe more. Jeremy was a criminal, maybe even a murderer. Why does all the weird shit happen to him?

Trevor noticed something on his right arm, something he sure as hell didn't have before he fell asleep. It was writing, a small and neat scrawl starting from his wrist and going to his elbow.

_Trevor,_  
I swear to god I was going to tell you. I'm sorry I didn't, but how do you tell someone that? I always wanted to, but I would never be able to bring it up, and then with what we did two nights ago, I knew I had to tell you. I was going to do it last night, but then that happened. Look, I was in the Fake AH Crew, and yes, I killed people. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier.  
Don't bother looking for me, I'm already gone.  
-Jeremy 

Trevor read the words over and over, trying to comprehend the entirety of it. Jeremy left town because of what happened, because he almost hurt Trevor. Trevor started to panic, if Jeremy left town, the only god damned person in this god damned city that liked him was gone. He had to find who else was in this crew and ask if they knew where Jeremy was.

So after extensive research, he managed to pull up an address from some files on the internet he didn't exactly obtain legally, thanking himself for going into a computer field. A twenty minute walk to the apartment building were they lived, taking the elevator to the top floor. He knocked on the door in front of him, hoping that he wasn't wrong. When the door opened, he was surprised to see someone wearing aviators indoors, as he was greeted with someone from the penthouse.

“Is this where the Fake AH Crew lives?” Trevor asks.

“Who’s askin’?” The person replies, again surprising Trevor with the British accent he had. This was their hacker, Free, as the files called him. Seemed odd to identify someone with an adjective.

“I'm looking for someone-”

“I said, who's askin’? He repeated, and Trevor didn't need to be asked again.

“I'm a… I'm Jeremy's boyfriend.” Trevor replies, and the tension shifts completely. It isn't gone, in fact there's more, just different. Free’s expression changed from questioning to shocked.

“Jaaaaack! Geooooff!” Free said, turning around and calling into the penthouse. “Small problem!” Trevor shifted nervously, hoping he wouldn't be killed for this. He's glad he couldn't feel pain, because he's pretty sure dying hurts.

“For the love of God, Gavin,” Someone said from inside, and Trevor immediately identified the man to be the leader, the one thing on him was his appearance, mostly the tattoo sleeves. “you can sign for packages, I don't have to-” He looked up, eyes making contact with Trevor, immediately looking at Free (Gavin?) after. “Jack, Gavin answered the door to a stranger.”

“You told me to!” Gavin (hopefully) whined.

“What's going on?” Someone else joined the two, someone Trevor only assumed to be Jack. The files said nothing on this Jack person, only that there was a confirmed six people, two of them missing information. Trevor assumed one of those people was Jeremy, so this must of been the other. “Oh, hello,” She said upon seeing Trevor, greeting him with a smile. “who are you?”

Trevor opened his mouth to answer, but Gavin beat him to it. “That’s Jeremy’s bird.” Geoff (Trevor assumed from deductive reasoning) and Jack’s expressions went through similar expression changes. Geoff looked down and Jack covered her mouth, looking somberly at Trevor.

“What’s wrong with Jeremy?” Trevor asked, fear showing in his voice.

“Gavin, go help Michael.” Jack orders, and Gavin goes to protest before Jack gives him a look. Gavin obeys, pouting before disappearing into the penthouse. Odd, the files said Geoff was in charge. “What's your name?”

“Trevor.” He answers, not knowing if he was scared of dying still of if Jack is just such a mother that he wants to answer her. Trevor sees why they listen to her. Jack nods.

“Come inside, please.” She says, gesturing inside. Trevor hesitates.

“If we wanted to kill you, we would of done it by now.” Geoff says, and somehow that calms Trevor's nerves. He had a point. Trevor gingerly walks in, noting how oxymoronic the interior was. It was lavishly furnished, but every table held a discarded Red Bull or soda can, old snack wrappers joining them. There where jackets and sweatshirts left haphazardly everywhere, even a shoe that lost it's other half. Trevor knew the feeling.

“Sorry it's such a mess, cleaning day is tomorrow.” Jack apologizes, gesturing to the L couch. Trevor takes his seat on the short part, Jack sitting on the opposite end and Geoff sitting in an armchair to the right to the couch, pulling it forward before taking his seat. Trevor's fear grows.

“Please, just tell me where he is.” Trevor pleads.

“How did you know to look for Jeremy?” Geoff asks, and Trevor is caught off guard.

“I, uh, he wrote on my arm?” Trevor says, his nervous stammers making it sound like a question. He pulls up his sweatshirt sleeve to show the two. “I uh, may of accidentally saw one of your men shooting someone- I didn't tell, I swear! -and Jeremy was supposed to kill me for seeing, but we have been seeing each other for a while, and he didn't tell me he ran in a crew, and I woke up with this on my arm.” Trevor is vaguely aware that he is rambling and may not make sense, but Geoff and Jack seem to understand. “I'm just scared because Jeremy thinks it's his fault and that I don't like him anymore.”

“If you didn't know he was in this crew, how did you find this place?” Geoff asks. “Do you work for the LSPD?”

“What?” Trevor asks before realizing what Geoff was inferring. “No, no no no, I'm not a cop, I work as head of security for an IT company, I run the firewall and make sure no one is trying to hack into our things. I may have illegally accessed the files from the government with my knowledge of security.”

“The IT company on fifth?” Geoff asks.

“Yes, I know you hacked into it twice, it isn't the best security in the world.” Trevor says, and both him and Jack chuckle.

“No promises it won't happen again.” Jack says.

“Yeah, well I get paid either way.” Trevor shrugs. “Can you please stop changing the subject?”

“Sorry.” Geoff apologized. “It's just… hard to explain.”

“Why?” Trevor asks. Jack sighs.

“Hon,” Jack says. “Jeremy is… Jeremy is dead.”

“What?” Trevor asks, not sure he heard her correctly.

“He uh, he shot himself in the head last night.” Geoff says, looking down.

“He’s..?” Trevor trails off, trying to process this.

_Don't bother looking for me, I'm already gone._

Trevor shakes his head slightly, trying to keep his composure. “I'm sorry sweetie.” Jack says.

“Thank you for telling me.” Trevor says quietly, standing up. He headed over to the door, trying to get out as quickly as possible.

“We’ll see you in the newspaper.” Geoff says grimly after him.

**Author's Note:**

> For just one kudos, you can give a fanfic writer a smile and happy feeling.
> 
> And for just one comment, you can receive a comment to the fanfic writer you saved from anxiety thinking no one liked this story.


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